


Shower Thots

by GetARoomKaiSoo



Category: Druck | SKAM (Germany)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, M/M, One Shot, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 15:07:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20391688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GetARoomKaiSoo/pseuds/GetARoomKaiSoo
Summary: A slice-of-life in which David is making pancakes and he hears Matteo calling his name from the shower.





	Shower Thots

It is the acrid smell of something burning that pulls David out of his cloud of thoughts. It is half past six in the evening and he stands by the stove in the kitchen, bathed in the carrot glow of the sunset streaming in through the window.

He stands staring at a patch of peeling paint in the wall, dressed in a pair of boxers and a baby-pink sweater that belongs to Matteo, one that Jonas bought him a few years ago for his birthday and the boy hasn't worn once because "it makes me look like a blister". 

David however, loves it enough that he finds himself wondering if he wants to be married or buried in it. It reminds him of the cotton candy Laura used to buy him every Saturday as a child when she came over to pick him up from his Art classes, after having saved up enough money for it throughout the week. 

His headset rests around his neck, he must have pulled it off at some point in the last five minutes without noticing, and it almost tumbles to the ground when he jumps at the sight of the charred pancake lying innocently in the pan. He quickly gathers it up using a wooden spatula and tosses it in the trash, turning on the exhaust right after to ward off the foul smell. 

As he pours a fresh batch of batter onto the heated pan he finds himself drifting towards the same line of thoughts that have had him worried for the past few weeks. Stress about University applications, Laura's mood swings, Jonas' behavior towards Hanna and Stefan that David considers to be borderline masochism and Matteo. Not that anything is particularly wrong with Matteo as of now, but not worrying about him would be out of the norm to David, utterly strange, like trying to walk backwards or to breathe in sync with someone. 

A hundred things spiral around his head like a badly managed batch of fire works. This time however, he tries not to dwell on it too much, applying the breathing technique that Kiki has taught him to keep his nerves around himself, and even manages to flip the pancake around at just the right time. It is perfectly golden, almost matching the shade of his skin and he even finds himself smiling a little bit at it. 

He has managed to make three more pancakes that look just as good, if not better, before a shout of his name seizes his attention. It's Matteo. Shouting from the bathroom that he had resigned himself into barely ten minutes ago. 

It is Saturday and the house has been empty for most of the evening, after Hans and Linn had decided to go catch a movie premier they've been waiting for for ages. It was supposed to be a double date thing and David finds himself silently hoping that everything Is going well with them as he takes impossibly large strides towards the bathroom.

He trips over something on his way and looks down to find Matteo's navy-blue shirt that he had slipped off of the boy's body not longer than two hours ago. (Always so eager to undress me, huh, Mr. Schreibner? Wait, what are you doing? Where are you doing? Come back here. Come back and take my clothes off, you ass!) A slight blush colours his cheeks and neck at the thought of warm fingers trailing down the curve of his back and settling at the dip of his spine. He picks the shirt off the floor and tosses it into the laundry bag in the corner. 

"David!" He hears Matteo yell again, a slight panic overtaking his senses wondering if the boy has hurt himself in some way. 

"I'm coming!"

"Daaaaaaavid!"

He sighs as he places his hand over the doorknob, Matteo does not sound like he's in any pain. At all. This sounds more like one of his tropes to get on David's nerves. (That he somewhat secretly loves, not that he'll ever admit that out loud.)

"I'm right here, you idiot, stop screaming, the entire neighborhood has heard-" His mouth freezes shut as he pushes the door of the bathroom open. The sight of Matteo leaning by the sink knocks the breath right out of him. The only things the boy is wearing are the deep red marks adorning his neck from his jawline down to his collarbone, courtesy of David, who has seen him naked a hundred times before. Who also stands speechless in the doorway, not being able to believe that this body, this beautiful body that is perfect in every way that he can imagine, that is soft and warm in all the right places but also strong and ungiving under that layer of blush was over him and under him and in him just a few minutes ago.

In the little while he takes to regain control over his senses Matteo has called his name out three more times. He takes two long strides towards the blond and places a firm hand over his mouth and one against the back of his neck. 

"If you yell one more time you'll have to sleep on the couch tonight, Florenzi."

Matteo, who seems to have soaped his eyes shut mumbles something against David's palm. He removes his hand as Matteo's arms fumble around before settling around his waist, a slightly smug look on his face. 

"But this is my house." 

"Do I look like I care?"

"I don't know, I can't see you."

David chuckles as he pulls the sleeves of his sweater over the palm of his hand and tries to wipe the lather out of Matteo's eyes as the latter stands patiently, letting the boyfriend take care of his situation. 

"Were you trying to wash your eyeballs?" David enquires as he delicately runs the downy fabric over the boy's eyelid. 

Matteo scoffs. "I was trying to was my face and then the water stopped altogether." 

"Maybe someone turned the valve again." David deduces. He leans in and presses his lips against Matteo's lashes before saying, "There. You can open them now."

Matteo obeys, more dramatically than required, only opening one eye at a time. 

"Hi." He chirps, a smirk lilting his lips as he raises his arms to place them over David's shoulder. "Didn't see you there."

"I bet." David says, rolling his eyes, before breaking a small smile at the blond. 

Matteo sighs as he melts into his shoulder, his hair dripping water onto the back of David's sweater. 

"You're all wet, Matteo, get away." He says, trying to push the boy away by his shoulder. 

"You weren't complaining last night, though." Matteo says, thick smugness coating his words. 

"Neither did I this morning, or afternoon, or an hour ago." David says, rolling his eyes. 

He watches as Matteo's lifts his head, his gaze making a trip down the length of his body and then back up again and can't help but feel a little hot under the collar. He wonders if he'll ever get used to being looked at like that, like Matteo is thinking of a hundred things he wants to do to him right then, things that involve wandering lips and various stages of undress. So he's a little taken aback when Matteo states out of the blue, "You've been worrying."

"Huh?" He asks, a little frown stitching his brows together. 

"You look like you've been stressing about something. What's eating you?" He questions, brushing a strand of hair away from David's forehead. "Other than me." He adds as an afterthought, looking more proud of himself than he has the right to. 

David smacks him on the forearm and leaves his hand there, rubbing little circles onto the damp skin with his thumb. 

"Just... The university... And Laura..." He lets his words trail off, not wanting to admit that he was also worrying about Matteo, which will probably make the boy feel guilty unnecessarily. 

Matteo smiles fondly, bowing down to peck one of David's cheeks. "It's all going to be fine." He assures. "You're going to get in and you'll ace all your subjects. You'll make movies that will change people's lives." 

He finds David beggining to roll his eyes and he stops him by cupping his jaw and pulling his face closer to himself. "No, listen, you fool." He chides, and David sighs, nodding. "There is nothing that comes out of this beautiful brain that is anything short of a masterpiece." He continues. "You're built to conjure wonders, Schreibner. How can you not see it?" 

David shrugs as Matteo's hand slips down to settle against his chest. "Doesn't stop me from worrying, though." He admits. 

A pensive look overtakes Matteo's features as turns the words over in his head. He takes his time to reply. 

"Worrying is fine. As long you know that you're going to be okay." He tells David. "We're going to be okay. Your aliens will make sure of that. And as for Laura, she'll be just fine, too. She's smarter than you."

That earns him a pinch on his stomach and he yelps, still not letting go of David. 

"You look good." He breathes, pinching a bit of David's sweater between his thumb and forefinger as the boy watches the heat from a few minutes ago return to his eyes. 

"You hate this sweater." He reminds him. 

"It's on you. How can I hate anything that's on you?" He says and David scoffs. "Besides, this might just be your colour." 

He leans in to bury his face in David's neck, placing feather light kisses on the skin behind his ear. "I can think of a few other things that will look good on you right now." He says in a sultry voice, his breath tickling David's skin, raising goosebumps all over his arms. 

"Baby we just had sex, not even an hour ago. " David complains as Matteo slips a discreet hand under the hem of his sweater, kissing new marks into his collarbone. "We'll never get anything done if we keep going at it like this." 

He almost shrieks at the way Matteo jerks away from him, as if some invisible hand had yanked the boy away from David. "Okay." Matteo says. "No sex then." 

David finds his heart falling at those words. "No... You can like come back here... You know kiss and all ...." He whines, trying to grapple with Matteo's damp shoulders. "Eat my neck, you idiot." He pulls the boy, now sporting a full-blown shit-eating grin, closer to himself and replaces his lips against his neck. Matteo chuckles in between kisses. 

He lets his lips travel up against David's jawline, a trail of sloppy kisses that manage to make David hold onto his shoulder for support, before molding them between the cupid bow of his mouth. They kiss for a while, which turns into an outright steam session when David turns them around and backs them up until Matteo's hips hit the wall with a gentle thud. ("Ow, the wall is cold, you asshole.") He places a hand beside Matteo's head and one against his hip and he continues to kiss and un-kiss the boy into oblivion. 

That is until the shower comes back to life and starts pouring down on the both of them. David yelps and tries to get himself away from the onslaught of water, not wanting to drench his favorite sweater. Matteo stays frozen against the pale blue bathroom wall, unable to process what the hell happened within the span of three seconds. David finds himself giggling at the stricken look on his boyfriend's face. Matteo blinks at him a couple of times. "Weren't you just kissing me?"

"Awww." David coos at the little pout that Matteo is trying really hard to hide. "Why don't you finish showering, my love? And then we can do some baby-making on the bed instead."

Matteo nods dejectedly and blows a kiss in his direction. He blows one back before turning around and walking out of the bathroom.

When he reaches the living room he finds Hans standing at the entrance, patting his coat down before placing it on the hanger. His face breaks into a smile when he spots David. 

"Nice sweater, butterfly." He says and David finds himself smiling at the compliment. 

"Thanks, it's Matteo's." He offers, surprised to notice a hint of pride in his own voice. 

Hans rolls his eyes as he makes his way towards David. 

"Do you even wear a stitch on your body that doesn't belong to him nowadays?" He teases, wriggling his eyebrows as he stretches himself onto the couch. 

"I wore my own shirt yesterday." David admits. 

"Yeah, that's because my son decided to do laundry after a hundred years and had to basically wash all of his clothes." Says Hans and David crinkles his nose at the words. 

"Well... "

"Well... As long as the two of you are wearing clothes, whosever it is, it's fine by me." He sits up straighter, crossing his legs and resting an elbow on his knees.  
"Did you just get out of the shower?" He asks, eyeing David's damp hair. 

"Yeah, kind of." David says, running a hand through his wild locks to get some moisture out. 

"Where's Matteo?" Hans questions, sweeping a glance across the apartment, looking for him. 

"In the shower." David replies and Hans turns to look at him with a raised eyebrow, an impish smile playing on his lips. 

"Hmmm... " He sighs in a dramatic, sing song way.

A blush rises to color David's cheek and his eyes widen to twice their actual size. He finds himself shaking his head. "No. It was nothing like that."

"It's okay, my puppy. Nothing beats doing it in the shower."

"We never... " David starts instinctively, but stops himself. The night from last week, the one where he had walked in on Matteo shaving his stubble, wearing only a pair of grey track pants that had hung way too low on his tapering waist makes him swallow his words right back. 

"How was your date?" He asks instead and Hans starts laughing. 

"My date..." He starts as his chuckles subside. He grimaces as he continues. "Let's just say that only one couple will have sex in this house tonight."

David laughs at that. Speed dating is a thing he still needs time to wrap his mind around. Not that he needs to worry about the likes of that any time soon. Or ever. Thanks to a certain half-Italian who likes to soap his eyeballs. 

"What is that smell?" Hans questions, his nose darting in the air as he tries to make sense of what is assaulting his olfactory instincts. 

Then it hits David. Literally. 

It's that smell again. The acrid one. 

From a few minutes ago. 

"Shit!" He exclaims as he darts towards the kitchen.

**Author's Note:**

> This is so off hand and unfocused, I wasn't even practically awake when I wrote this and it's been sitting in my drafts for a while, so why not?
> 
> It's not the best but I hope you like it anyway ^^


End file.
